


New Year's Day

by HannibabestheCannibabes



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, New Year, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibabestheCannibabes/pseuds/HannibabestheCannibabes
Summary: Kent and Chandler tidy the station after a New Year's Eve party. Pure unadulterated fluff.





	New Year's Day

**New Year's day**

_'_ _Ten, nine, eight, seven…’_

Joseph Chandler felt Miles nudge his elbow, pushing him closer to the woman beside him, glancing at him through dark eyelashes.  Miles nodded over to her with raised eyebrows, as Chandler turned round to question him.

_‘Six, five, four…’_

From the other side of the office, Kent stood nursing a beer. His gaze was set firmly on the sight of his boss across the room smiling at the brunette woman next to him, a sergeant from another branch of the Whitechapel force. He seemed comfortable beside her, relaxed almost. Kent felt a sharp pain in his chest and he looked away.

_‘Three, two, one. Happy New Year.’_

The room erupted into applause as the clock chimed midnight and the New Year was ushered in. Someone in the room had saved some of the party poppers from the Christmas party and had begun setting them off. Somewhere, a champagne bottle was opened, and there was another collective cheer.

Chandler saw the woman begin to lean towards him, and he held out a hand awkwardly between them. She glanced down at the sudden movement.

‘Happy New Year.’ He gave a small smile as she shook his hand with a disappointed nod, his own embarrassment burning in his stomach. She turned away quickly and he glanced around the room, eyes eventually landing on the dark haired man laughing with the officer next to him, a beer comfortably in hand, the other resting on the officer’s shoulder. Chandler swallowed bitterly, and walked away to find Miles.

* * *

 

The station was deserted by one. After the champagne had been finished, people either chose to continue the night elsewhere, somewhere with possibly more people to celebrate the New Year with than work colleagues, or return home to families and the warmth of a bed. The only light still on was in the incident room, flickering still as one lone figure collected the empty bottles scattered on desks and cups that littered the floor.

‘Sir?’

Chandler looked up to see his DC’s silhouette leaning against the doorway. He approached slowly, until Chandler could see Kent’s hazel eyes looking at him widely, a slightly sheepish smile on his lips. ‘Kent. What are you still doing here? Are you waiting for a taxi?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Well, you can’t drive. You’ve been drinking.’

A small chuckle from the other man. ‘Barely, I’ve had one beer all night.’ At the sight of his boss’s clear lack of reassurance, he explained, ‘I’m not going to drive. I knew you’d still be here tidying the office. I thought I could help, sir.’

Chandler felt the breath catch in his throat. He stammered, ‘you don’t have to do that.’

‘I know. But I thought if there were two of us, it’d be done quicker and then together we could go home.’ He felt himself blush slightly as he said it. ‘Both go to our homes. Just saves you spending the whole of your first morning of the year cleaning, sir.’

‘Thank you, Kent.’ Chandler pointed in the direction of the bin bags on one of the desks, and turned around to continue collecting bottles. He paused momentarily. ‘You can call me Joe, Kent, rather than sir. We’re not actually at work.’

Kent nodded. ‘Emerson, then. Or Em, which is what I’m usually called. Anything but Emma, which is reserved only for school bullies and Mansell.’

Chandler laughed as he placed another bottle into his bag. ‘Where was Mansell tonight? I don’t think I saw him.’

‘He spent the holidays with my sister and our parents.’ Kent remembered receiving the news and knowing that, for the first time since he’d been at university and ‘too cool’ for family events, he’d have to spend Christmas and New Year far away from home.

‘You didn’t join?’

‘I had other plans.’

‘Such as cleaning offices?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I didn’t see you much at the party either.’ Chandler tried to make the observation sound casual, a skill he knew he lacked and had never really thought about improving. Kent however, seemed not to realise.

‘Big party. I’m surprised so many people were there. And that we were even allowed to have it here.’

‘I think people agreed to overlook it, rather than actually agreed to it.’

There was a few minutes of silence, the only noises being the collecting and depositing of the rubbish in the room. It wasn’t as bad as Kent had expected, or Chandler had feared. Kent could feel the quiet in the room, as if it was an actual presence. His mind was racing, trying to think of something to break the moment, but only able to ask one question.

‘I saw you with one of the sergeants. Who’s she?’

Chandler looked up with a frown, as Kent did his best to disguise the feeling he knew full well to be spitting envy, with mere interest. ‘Which sergeant? When?’

‘Oh, erm…I don’t know when. Maybe near midnight, I think?’

He watched as Chandler flushed slightly and looked down. ‘I don’t know. One of Miles’ ideas, I think. Push me towards the nearest woman come midnight and hope for some sort of New Year miracle.’

‘For his benefit or yours?’

A weak chuckle. ‘No doubt more for his than mine. I shook her hand, whoever she is, and left her to salvage the rest of her New Year celebrations. So another roaring success.’

‘Skip doesn’t mean anything by it…’

‘I know.’ Another awkward silence. ‘Perhaps I should make it my New Year’s resolution, resist all of my sergeant’s disastrous matchmaking schemes.’

Kent smiled weakly, trying to fight the squeezing pain in his chest at any mention of Chandler dating. ‘Do you do resolutions then, sir…Joe?’

‘Some. Occasionally. Not that they ever really work.’

‘Any this year?’

‘Bring in a killer alive?’ Chandler joked, the humour being lost however by the seriousness of his face. He shrugged. ‘I feel there are things I could improve on. Manage better. Relax perhaps.’ He glanced over at Kent, running a hand through his dark hair. ‘Be braver. Yourself?’

‘Only the classics. Get fit. Learn a new instrument. Speak Chinese. Never anything I’ll actually accomplish, just something to say when people ask.’

The men worked in silence once again. Their hearts, albeit unknowingly, pounding in unison in their chests. The clock on the wall and the clanging of empty beer bottles made up the only sounds in the room. Eventually, Chandler stood up straight, casting a glance around, scanning each desk carefully.

‘We’re done.’ He watched as Kent placed the last of his bottles in the bag and tied it carefully. Chandler’s eyes were still on him as he placed it on the floor and glanced over. ‘Thank you, Kent…Emerson. I don’t know many people who would be willing to clean up bottles with me on New Year’s Day.’

‘Nothing I’d rather do.’ Kent felt himself blush immediately, his eyes wide as he realised what he’d said. ‘For the team. Nothing I’d rather do for the team. It’s our incident room after all…’

He watched as Chandler turned around and retreated into his office. With a silent groan, he stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the office door to close as a hint for Kent to go back home. Instead, he felt warm fingers lifting his hand, and a glass being pushed against his palm. He looked down to see Chandler, his own glass on the desk beside them, a small smile on his face.

‘I realised we haven’t actually celebrated the New Year properly. I only have vodka, is that alright?’

He managed to return the smile through his disbelief. ‘One of my more interesting New Year drinks. Though this is one of my more interesting New Year’s.’

‘Cleaning is interesting?’

‘Being with you  is.’

Kent raised his glass to take a sip, only to find Chandler place his hand on the top. He barely had time to register his surprise before the other man leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He was soft, softer than Kent had ever imagined, as if he was afraid any other pressure would find him rejected. It took Kent, placing the glass blindly on the desk beside them, and taking Chandler’s hand to pull it around his back, for him to feel Chandler’s lips firmer against his own, the beginnings of a smile against his.

The Inspector broke away first, resting his head against Kent’s with a relieved breath. ‘Happy New Year, Emerson.’

‘Happy New Year, Joe.’


End file.
